The Portrait
by K-yers
Summary: Calla Snape finally sees Severus's portrait. One-Shot/ Continuation of Professor's Daughter series.


**A/N: This is a spin-off/one shot of the Professor's Daughter series, which followed Calla Snape. You can find that series on my profile if you want.**

 **I wanted to write this because a lot of people have asked about Calla talking to Snape through his portrait, and also a sort of goodbye for Alan Rickman, because he was an amazing actor and he really brought the character of Severus Snape to life. This one shot (for me at least) can act as a sort of continuation to Calla's story and also a goodbye to one of my favorite actors ever.**

 **R.I.P Alan Rickman (February 21, 1946 - January 14, 2016)**

* * *

My seventh year of Hogwarts wasn't going that well. The scars left from the Battle of Hogwarts a few months ago were still very much there. I had helped with the cleanup afterwards, and whatever could've been fixed was fixed, but a lot of the blasts and scorch marks and collapsed stone were all caused by Dark magic and curses. Professor McGonagall was working on finding someone who knew how to fix those completely.

Until then, those wide holes in walls, black marks on the tiles, and piles of rubble, were all reminders of what had happened at the end of last year.

A lot of students from my year haven't shown up yet. The Clegane twins probably weren't coming back, according to Astoria Greengrass. "Their father heard about how they fought against You-Know-Who and he's apparently furious with them."

I had felt a quiver of fury inside of my gut when I had heard this. "Why on earth would he be angry with them because of that?"

Astoria shrugged with a slight sigh. "I don't know for sure. I just remember Cersei telling me that although he wasn't a Death Eater, he _did_ support You-Know-Who and everything he stood for."

"That's just stupid." I said without thinking. Astoria didn't response, just nodded and looked sad for her friend.

Hermione had come back to finish her seventh year. Ginny and I had made fun of her for it, but it had all been done in fun. Merlin knew how much we all needed to laugh nowadays.

I never saw anyone being bullied anymore, the one time I did, it had been a fifth year pushing a second year around. I had been about to step forward to do something when Ginny beat me to it, marching right forward and nailing the fifth year in the face. I'm sure there was still some students fighting each other over stupid stuff, but I just didn't see it anymore.

Despite being at Hogwarts with my best friends, it didn't feel at all like Hogwarts. I could actually go into the Great Hall and find the scorch mark that I had put there when I had fought Margaret Tully, my mother. And now right when you enter the Great Hall, between the two staircases, was an "In Memoriam" wall. On it was all of the names of students, professors, Aurors, wizards and witches, and house-elves who had lost their lives in the Battle of Hogwarts.

Fred Weasley's name was up there, I'd stop by almost every day to look at it and remember the cheerful redhead who had become like a brother to me.

Dad's name was up there. And I stopped by his name every single day, staring at the letters of his name and trying to think of the words that I should've said while he was alive. There was so much we had left unsaid; so much bitterness between us during that time. I still couldn't remember the last thing I had said to him, or him to me. One part of me was glad for that, because I knew for a fact that I had been furious at him for the entirety of last year.

I was standing in front of the In Memoriam wall one Sunday when Hermione came up behind me and stood beside me. "Calla?" She said quietly.

"Hermione." I answered, finally looking away from Dad's name. I had been staring at it for so long that whenever I blinked, I could see the imprint of _Severus Snape._ Hermione's brown eyes were sympathetic and she sighed before beginning to talk.

"I know you and your dad had troubles when he was alive, but have you ever thought about going to McGonagall's office?"

I frowned at her. "No. Why?"

"Harry wrote me the other day telling me about how he convinced Professor McGonagall to put Snape's portrait in there along with the other Headmasters."

My heart stopped beating for a minute. "I'll see you later, Hermione." I said, practically running away from her and up the stairs to McGonagall's office. Hermione shouted something after me, but I didn't hear her. I almost ran over a few first years on my way to the office, but I didn't stop running until I was standing outside of that gargoyle.

Last time I had seen it, the gargoyle had been blasted apart with its head lying next to its body. But it looked brand new now. In fact it looked like it was a brand new gargoyle altogether.

It came to life once it sensed me standing there. "Password?"

"What happened to the gargoyle before you?" I asked without comprehending the request for a password.

The new gargoyle blinked, I guess. It's heavy stone brow lowered to cover its blank eyes and then went right back up. "He retired." It said shortly. "Do you have a password?"

"Um,"

"Miss Snape!" McGonagall's voice snapped behind me. I turned to see her approaching me, her thinning hair still pulled into a tight bun. Her gaze wavered the moment I turned around, and I remembered that I had turned on my heel, the way Dad always had. McGonagall's stern expression was back in a second though. "Why are you soliciting around my office?"

I didn't say anything for a moment. "I need to talk to him."

McGonagall's face softened immediately and she looked back to the gargoyle. "Assisi." She told the gargoyle, which leapt aside for me and revealed the spiral staircase. "Go on up, Miss Snape."

I did as she said and when I finally made it past the doors, I suddenly felt nervous. My dad had been dead for four months now. What the hell was I supposed to say to him now?

Half of the portraits were missing; I guessed that they were in other places of the castle. Albus Dumbledore was dozing quietly in his portrait right behind the desk. But it was the painting right next to him that held my attention.

Dad's gaze had narrowed right on me the second I walked into the room. He stared at me hard as I slowly approached the painting, and to keep my mind distracted, I asked myself how paintings of people even worked. Was it a sentient being that just had my father's memories and thoughts? Was it just an imprint of the person? I had never questioned portrait logic until this moment.

"Calla." Dad's painting said once I was standing beside the large desk.

"Dad." I responded, already feeling awkward. "I just heard your painting was up."

"Yes, I was put up a few days ago by Potter."

He said Harry's last name with a curl of his lip, something he only really did with things that irritated or disgusted him. I smiled despite myself; this was my dad. Dad looked at me right in the eye. "Whatever happened to your mother?"

My smile disappeared as I remembered Tully's blazing yellow eyes just moments before her death. How she had stared at me with loathing as she fired Killing Curse after Killing Curse.

"She's dead." I said in an accidental monotone voice. "She tried to kill me a few hours after you died. I...I had to kill her."

A few of the portraits around me muttered amongst themselves. I had forgotten they were there. Dad tore his gaze away from me and glared at each painting in turn. Then he finally looked down at me. "I'm truly sorry you had to do that, Calla. You're mother was a shrew."

I let out an accidental laugh, one of the few I had let out since the Battle of Hogwarts. Dad blinked and after a moment, finally gave me a small smile. Then he asked, "What of the house on Spinner's End? I hope you didn't stay there over the summer."

"I didn't," I said. "Mrs. Weasley wouldn't let me. I stayed at the Burrow all summer." I paused. "I'm thinking about selling the Spinner's End house. I went in there once over the summer to get some stuff and it-it was just too hard."

"I understand. Sell it then, it is in your name now." Dad said without a moment of hesitation. "The house belonged to Muggles first, might as well give it back to Muggles."

"Thanks, Dad," I said quietly. I really wished he was here right now. I needed a hug from him. Dad's rare hugs had often been brief and stiff, but right now I missed them as much as him. These thoughts drew unshed tears to my eyes and I forced myself not to cry in front of his painting.

"Calla," Dad said again, much softer this time. I looked up and met the painted eyes of my father. He wasn't smiling anymore, but instead he looked sad. Dad said, "You don't have to say anything else. I know what you wanted to say."

A tear fell down on my cheek and I wiped it away quickly. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"What did I just say, Calla?"

Another laugh escaped me. Dad's blunt ways was another thing I missed about him. He was watching me and completely ignoring the other paintings, who were all still muttering to each other. "Come and see me again, Calla. Professor McGonagall will let you in, I'll make sure of it."

I just nodded, not able to talk anymore. I started to turn to leave, but managed to turn back and say, "Goodbye, Dad," He just nodded stiffly and gave me a small smile that I didn't miss. I left the office, feeling lighter than I had when I had entered.


End file.
